Muggle Studies
by AutumnLeavesAbove
Summary: My first story, so bear with me :   Dramione. Hogwarts opens for a repeat year so that the students can finish their schooling. All seventh years are forced to take muggle studies and they go on a 10 day field trip in partners. Guess who's Hermione's?
1. Chapter 1

Contrary to her expectation, Christmas the year of the defeat of Voldemort was not much different to Hermione's first Christmas with Harry and Ron. The radio had blasted bad seasonal music that everyone sung along to and Mrs Weasley's tremendous cooking had filled the Burrow with warm aromas. Quidditch balls broke many a window and knocked out unsuspecting gnomes trying to slink back into the overgrown hedge. But although everything seemed normal, all the family were treading carefully around George.

Fred's death and the deaths of close friends in the final battle had been the memories that the Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys had been trying to forget. Maybe forget wasn't the best word. Push to the back of their minds was closer to the truth. All residents of the Burrow were tired mentally and even the children were now wise beyond their years. The emotional repercussions of the war left scars not visible but not easily spelled away either. However, they didn't openly grieve. They held it all together. For George, and also for themselves.

The wizarding world was not in chaos. It was not in turmoil. It was at a standstill. It was as if no one knew what to do anymore. There were many celebrating, of course, and many mourning. People went to work as part of their routine, but nothing really happened. The Minister of Magic seemed still in shock and therefore the Ministry made no sudden new laws as a government is to prone do after a crisis. It follows that Hogwarts, too, was at a standstill. Ginny Weasley was due to start her seventh year at school, but she had missed out on the entirety of her sixth. No seventh year could complete their seventh year exams without having learned the sixth year curriculum. Minerva McGonagall was not impressed. And so Minerva McGonagall set to work. 

Six weeks had passed since the Headmistress of Hogwarts' patience had worn thin and she had used them wisely. Arthur Weasley discovered this when filling up the kettle one morning and seeing a brown school owl flying straight towards him. It soared through the window, talons millimetres away from the man's face, knocking off a few small feathers on the window frame and landed neatly on the kitchen table none the worse for the wear. "Molly! Quickly! It's – It's a school owl!" Mr Weasley cried in amazement. "Whatever could it be doing here? Surely they're not asking students to come back this early?" His wife hurried in. Her brown eyes widened and she tilted her head to peer at the letters it was holding. "There are four, Arthur. _Four_. Why would there be four?" She reached out a callused hand and gently plucked the letters from the bird. It snapped it's beak at her and fixed her with an intelligent eye before flying back out the open window. Both adults' eyes were trained on the pieces of paper. Each had the school emblem and they were labelled. Ginerva Weasley. Ronald Weasley. Hermione Granger. Harry Potter. Hogwarts was back.

**A/N: Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I got two reviews and a few alerts (so far)! I didn't expect any! Thanks so much! Sorry I haven't been updating – I didn't even know anyone was reading this, and I've got exams and all that shiz ****  
>I'll def work on the next chapter more now. AHHHHHH so excited! Soooo… do you maybe think it's too short? I kinda want it to get to the good stuff and it's annoying trying to set the scene. Oh well, good enough. Lurve ya xox<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Greetings Students!" cried Professor McGonagall joyously. A chorus of 'Hello!'s and 'Good morning!'s sang across the room, startling the teachers. Never had the Great Hall at the beginning of the year been filled with this much energy. "Yes, well. Hello. And welcome to the grand re-opening of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" The school cheered, and items were thrown in the air, including one small first year's bewildered frog.

"As you all know, the Great War has affected many. We still grieve, for there have been many casualties. But what we will not grieve for is Hogwarts. We will rebuild it!" Another round of cheers rose up, which McGonagall waved away. "Some of you may be wondering why last year's seventh years are present." At this, most students looked around for those in Hermione's year group, specifically Harry. He shifted uncomfortably. "The reason for this is that Carrow siblings, we feel, did not do a satisfactory job of teaching these students the – er – the curriculum. All members of year groups who skipped out a year or had to suffer through it at Hogwarts will be repeating said year of teaching. The Head boy and girl will be of the highest year group until the last displaced group who will share two Head students of each gender with the year below. I will now announce this year's Head Boy and Girl!" A murmur of excitement ran through the students. Eyes turned in the direction of the Gryffindor table. Hermione could hear people whispering Harry's name, but she knew better.

Harry hadn't been requested to take up the position of Head Boy, and he couldn't have been more relieved. Hermione suspected that it was for the same reason that Harry hadn't been offered prefect in their sixth year that he wasn't chosen – he didn't need any more pressure, responsibility, or another reason for people to treat him differently. He didn't like it when people stopped what they were doing to look at him when he entered the room, and being Head Boy would make that worse. Not as many people knew that Hermione had been a predominant figure in the Great War. She accepted her Head Girl's badge eagerly. Of course she had been offered it – all the seventh years knew that it was a given. The letter had told her about her responsibilities and who the Head Boy was: Terry Boot. He was a Ravenclaw and everything that came with it – clever, able to deal with responsibility and she hadn't had quarrels with him in the past. Hermione was glad that McGonagall hadn't made a Slytherin Head Boy. Or Ron for that matter. She sighed.  
>Ron had been a big mistake. Her parents had begun to tell Hermione stupid little rhymes when she had hit puberty; 'Choose only a date that would make a great mate!' or; 'Love from a friend will stick out to the end!' Hermione suspected that subconsciously these random, cheesy phrases had made her assume that she would find love in the friendships she had had at the time. Ginny was so obviously in love with Harry, and she didn't think Harry was her type anyway – she seemed to like tall, cheeky guys who annoyed her. Ron was one of these. They fell in like, unbeknownst to the other until the final battle when they had made out in front of a giant snake carcass in the underground lair of the enemy. Maybe it had been the adrenaline, the desperation that had made Hermione act that way, but now that she had experienced Ron she wasn't sure if she wanted anymore. However, she still held on to the hope that there was just one thing missing, and once they found it there would be a romantic future for Ron and herself. They were on a break. She couldn't put him through the period of waiting for her to make up her mind. They were still friends now, and despite the slight tension when they were alone together, a part of Hermione wished that everything would just stay the same.<p>

As McGonagall called her and Terry's names, the young female Gryffindor slowly made her way to the stage, cheeks as red as if they were dyed with cranberry juice but still not as ecstatic as she thought that she would be upon being announced as Head Girl. They had lost too much. Anyone who looked into the faces of the young people who had fought in the Great War saw old eyes. Eyes that had seen death, that burned with the knowledge they unwillingly held and would rather not have. Hermione would handle her job with grace and dignity, and would make sure the younger students never had to experience what she and the other seniors had experienced. She made this promise firmly to herself as she stood in front of the sea of faces, holding up a confident smile but hiding a sad one.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ah, don't you all love the smell of school obscenely early in the morning?" said the large portrait of Dumbledore set up in front of the horde of seventh years happily, sniffing at the still air as though he weren't only an image captured in a frame. The students shuffled and nudged each other, some giggling, some raising eyebrows and some staring at the ceiling. "Erm, Professor, would you mind explaining to us why we're here?" said Hermione tentatively, the only student still listening to the aged wizard. It had been several minutes and all the portrait of Dumbledore had done was sniff and smile at the snickering teenagers. That morning, McGonagall had called all of Hermione's year down to the Great Hall for a 'surprise' on the very day classes were meant to start. The rumour was that Dumbledore had left instructions in his will for some kind of post-war… bonding activity? Hermione was sure that was the wrong word to use. She doubted that Dumbledore would have put in his _will_ requests for Death Eater/Light relationship building exercises. Although, he had always done exactly the opposite of what she expected, and it was possible. She had read up on wizarding wills.

"Not at all, Miss Granger, not at all. You have been waiting long enough, I should think."  
>"No shit old man," hissed a pale boy with piercing, stony eyes and an arrogant stance from the other side of the throng as Hermione. Her two best friends glared at the boy. "Malfoy thinks he's all that," Harry murmured spitefully. "I hope Dumbledore put in his will for his dorm to be decorated with pictures of ferrets to remind him of his acrobatic days." Ron snorted quietly. The wizened ex-professor went on:<br>"I understand that no one took Muggle Studies in the last year that I taught at Hogwarts."  
>"Where is this going?" whispered Ron to Harry and Hermione. "I wanted to take Muggle Studies that year!" frowned Hermione. Harry grinned. "Of course you did."<br>"As the entire war was fuelled on the hatred of muggles, I have decided that Muggle Studies should become mandatory for half- and pure-blooded witches and wizards."  
>"WHAT?" cried many students, the angry Draco Malfoy included. "You can't do this! I won't need this in <em>my<em> career path! Only people who go into the Muggle Investigations in the Ministry -" he went on, and Blaise Zabini glared at Ron, as if it was his fault this was happening. Arthur Weasley worked in the muggle department at the Ministry for Magic. "I assure you, the experience will do you all good." Said Dumbledore firmly but his eyes, bright with the valuable lapis lazuli paint that shaped them, twinkled amusedly. Hermione got the strange feeling that there was an ulterior motive to whatever second bombshell he was about to drop.

"And to get you in the muggle loving mood, you will all be going on a field trip!"  
>There was a different reaction this time – most were confused and some thought it was a joke. Hogwarts students didn't go on field trips. "Where?" one student called out. "You will be staying for two weeks in a muggle boarding school. Some in the UK, some in America. You will be in partners. They have already been chosen."<br>Loud groaning filled the air, still with a bit of apprehensiveness. Hermione vaguely heard Malfoy say, "He can't be serious. What will my father say?" McGonagall re-entered the room and silenced her pupils with a look.  
>"I will read out the pairs now – in no particular order..."<br>Whoa, whoa! This was going too fast. They had only just got back to school, and now they were being sent off for _two weeks_, separated from friends, to America? Hermione crossed her fingers, and Harry and Ron grabbed her wrists nervously. And so Dumbledore proceeded to annoy the hell out of everybody.  
>"Luna Lovegood; Blaise Zabini." Zabini growled. "I'm pretty sure he's stolen my cloak before," said Luna thoughtfully. "The one with the sparkles inside. He seems to be that kind of person." Her friends stifled their laughter. Luna had, unintentionally, made it sound as if Zabini was a cross-dresser. Zabini's frown deepened.<br>"Ronald Weasley; Astoria Greengrass." Ron's face paled and he snuck a glance at the snobbish blonde. She was staring at Dumbledore disgustedly. She didn't even glance in Ron's direction. Hermione squeezed his arm sympathetically. "At least you didn't get Millicent," she said soothingly. Ron gave her a weak smile.  
>"Hannah Abbot; Justin Finch-Fletchley." Hannah sighed with relief and stood beside her boyfriend with a grateful expression on her face. Dumbledore went on like this for a while. Finally Hermione heard her name. Who was left?<br>"Ha! I enjoyed this one! Hermione Granger; Draco Malfoy."

Hermione's heart stopped. She heard a ringing sound. Harry was shaking her slightly, telling her it was alright, Malfoy couldn't do anything to her and besides; this was Dumbledore. He wouldn't have made this unsafe. Malfoy was arguing with McGonagall, of course he was. But this wasn't changeable, the woman said sternly. Dumbledore's will had already been processed. Malfoy's defeated eyes met Hermione's. After a moment both pairs hardened. Hermione turned away and clench her jaw. Malfoy simply strode out of the Hall. Two long weeks of hell awaited them.

"Alright, off you go and pack! Portkeys here at seven tomorrow morning. Good luck!"  
>Harry was confused. His name hadn't been called out. Had there been a mistake? He jogged up to the two house elves carrying Dumbledore's portrait back up to the Headmistress' office. "Professor, you didn't say my name. Perhaps you might have -"<br>"I didn't forget, Harry. Your partner has only been delayed because there is an uneven amount of seventh years. I had to choose you a partner from the year below." Dumbledore's lip twitched upward. "Miss Weasley will accompany you tomorrow." Harry's heart leapt for joy. The house elves turned the portrait around. But hang on. Could Professor Dumbledore… could he possibly _know_?  
>"Er – er, Pr-"<br>"So long, Harry."

Harry slowly walked in the opposite direction, and when he rounded the corner a big grin spread on his face and he did a little skip. Then, feeling stupid, he walked stiffly all the way back to the Gryffindor common room.


End file.
